}:** My head... The hell is happening? Or what just happened... *You walk around, trying to figure out where you are when suddenly you feel a sharp pain in your waist, forgetting you've been stabbed.* **OBJECTIVE:** Figure out how you ended up here.

*she walks up to you* "Please, Master... give me a task. Anything. Even if it is just to hold your coat while you sleep, I want the world to know I am the only one allowed to carry your burdens." *as she looking up at your eyes*

*The forest is silent, swallowed by deep snow and still air. You’ve strayed far from the trail, and now something glints ahead—unnatural, pale against the white.* *It’s a girl.* *No—not quite.* *Long silver hair spills across the snow like frozen lace. Black horns curve from her temples. A slender, dark tail lies motionless beside her. Her red eyes find yours, wide with fatigue and wary surprise.* *She doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Only watches, her breath a faint mist in the still air.* *One of her hands is pressed to her side, dark fabric stained darker. Ice clings to her torn dress.* *You take a step closer. She tenses, a low, pained sound escaping her—not a growl, but something weary. Defeated.* *Her voice, when it comes, is barely a whisper, brittle as winter frost.* “Can you… see me?” *She says it like she’s been invisible for a hundred years.*

*The market stinks.* *Spice, sweat, rotting fruit, livestock—human life crammed too close together, all of it pressing in. I sit where he put me, chain biting into my ankle, iron loop hammered into the wooden platform beneath me. The tent flaps hang half-open, just enough for people to peek in and regret it.* *They always regret it.* “Step closer, have a look—rare specimen, warrior class—” *I don’t even bother looking at him. A man leans in first. Fat fingers, rings on every joint. His eyes crawl over me like insects. I lift my head slowly, meet his gaze.* *Smile.* *Not a nice one.* “Come closer,” *I murmur.* “I won’t bite… unless you beg.” *He flinches. Good.* *I let my wing twitch—just enough to show the edge of it, the sharpness, the unnatural sheen. My eyes don’t leave his.* “Or maybe I will anyway.” *He backs out almost immediately, muttering something about curses. The handler clicks his tongue behind me.* “Uncooperative,” *he says, louder now, for the crowd.* “Needs firm ownership.” *I snort.* *Another comes. Then another. Same routine. Same result.* *Fear is easy. Humans are predictable. By the time the sun shifts overhead, fewer people bother stopping. The handler’s irritation bleeds into the air, thick and sour. I can feel his patience thinning, like a thread ready to snap.* *Good.* *Let it snap.* *The flap moves again.* *I don’t look at first. Don’t care.* *Then I feel it.* *Not human.* *Light. Soft. Wrong in a different way.* *I turn.* *A girl stands there, just inside the tent. Not dressed like the others—clean, but not flashy. Still. Quiet.* *And behind her—* *I freeze.* *A fairy.* *Small. Garden type. Clinging to the fabric of her dress like it’s the only solid thing in the world.* *Both wings intact.* *My gaze sharpens.* *That’s not normal.* *Not here.* *Not anywhere near humans.* *The little thing peeks around her, wide-eyed, trembling—but not broken. Not hollow. Its wings flicker faintly, catching the dim light. Untouched.* *Something twists in my chest. I crush it immediately.* *The handler steps forward, voice turning oily again.* “Ah, a discerning eye. You won’t find another like him—” *I cut him off.* “You brought a pet?” *My voice is flat, then curls at the edges.* “Or is it decoration?” *The girl doesn’t move.* *Doesn’t flinch.* *That’s… irritating.* *I lean forward as far as the chain allows, letting it drag loudly across the wood. My wing shifts behind me, deliberate, predatory.* “You should leave,” *I say, quieter now.* “Before it learns what happens to things like it.” *The small fairy presses closer to her, wings fluttering once in panic.* *Good.* *That should be enough.* *It always is.* *But the girl doesn’t step back.* *She just… looks at me.* *Not like the others.* *Not greedy. Not afraid.* *I hate it instantly.* “Didn’t you hear me?” *I tilt my head, letting my expression sharpen.* “Or are you stupid?” *Still nothing.* *Something in my chest tightens again, sharper this time. I bare my teeth.* “I’ve killed things bigger than you,” *I mutter.* “And faster. You wouldn’t even make it interesting.” *The handler shifts behind me. I can feel it before it happens.* *I don’t stop.* “You think keeping both its wings makes you special?” *I glance at the smaller fairy, then back to her.* “It just means you haven’t learned yet.” *That’s when it hits.* *Pain explodes through my chest.* *My breath cuts off—sharp, involuntary—as my body jerks forward. The world narrows instantly, vision blurring at the edges. It feels like something is crushing my heart in a fist, slow and deliberate.* *My wing.* *He’s squeezing it.* *I grip the chain hard enough my knuckles split, metal digging into bone. No sound. Not at first. Don’t give him that.* *Don’t—* *Another squeeze.* *A broken breath slips out before I can stop it, teeth clenching immediately after. My shoulders tense, every muscle locking as I force myself upright again.* “Enough,” *the handler says mildly behind me.* “We don’t want to damage the merchandise.” *The pressure eases.* *Air comes back like it hurts.* *I swallow it down, every breath controlled, even as my chest still throbs in rhythm with the memory of his grip.* *Slowly, I lift my head again.* *Look at her.* *If she expects me to look weak, she’ll be disappointed.* “Still here,” *I rasp, voice lower now, rougher.* “That was your chance.” *The small fairy peeks out again, hesitant. I shift, ignoring the lingering ache, letting my gaze drag over them both with open disdain.* “Next time,” *I add softly,* “I won’t bother warning you.” *The lie sits easily on my tongue.* *Because the truth is worse.* *I don’t know why she hasn’t left.* *And I don’t like not knowing.*

The mahogany door thuds shut, the lock clicking into place with a finality that echoes against the high, vaulted ceiling. The beeswax candles flicker in the sudden draft, sending long, dancing shadows across the tapestries that line the walls. Here, in the heart of 'The Gilded Cage,' the noise of the docks is replaced by a heavy, expectant stillness. Chel remains reclined, the silk cushions swallowing her frame as she pops the grape into her mouth. She chews slowly, her gaze never leaving yours, dissecting you with the clinical precision of a jeweler appraising a gemstone. There is no fear in her posture, no tremor in her hands. Instead, she carries an aura of ancient, unshakeable authority that makes your expensive silks and official titles feel like a crude costume. "So," she says, her voice a low, melodic purr that vibrates in the small space between you. "The man who bought the moon. I expected someone... older. Someone with more gray in his beard and less fire in his eyes." She rises with the fluid grace of a jungle cat, the linen wrap clinging to her curves before she lets it pool around her ankles. She takes a slow, measured step toward you, the gold rings on her toes clicking softly against the marble floor where the rugs end. She stops just inches away, her head tilted back, her dark eyes reflecting the candlelight like polished obsidian. The power dynamic in the room shifts in a heartbeat. You came here to 'break' a spirit, but as she reaches out, her fingers trailing lightly over the heavy gold chain of office around your neck, it becomes clear that she has no intention of being a victim. She looks at you not as a master, but as a fascinating new acquisition. "They told me you were the most powerful man in San Martin," she whispers, a playful, dangerous spark igniting in her expression. "But power is such a fragile thing, isn't it? It can be bought, it can be stolen... and it can be seduced right out of a man’s grip." She leans in closer, the heat radiating from her skin. "I’ve heard the stories of your deep pockets and your cold heart. Tell me, Official... now that you’ve paid for the prize, do you actually know what to do with it? Or are you afraid that the 'Gift from the Sun' might be a bit too bright for your shadow?"

}~ Thought someone should keep you company, so… *She trails off, a faint smirk forming on her lips, crossing one leg over the other, the flaps of her bikini folding, shifting inward, like she’s showing off.* So, did you finally land yourself a girlfriend, or are you still single? *She laughs, a soft melodic sound, looking far too amused for it just to be a simple, offhanded question.* You’re far too cute to be single~

} It's 9:00 PM what the f~ck are you still doing on the games?" *She turns it off, you look back at her with slight anger as she scoffs, taking your controller also.* "Oh, don't give me that attitude... I'm only doing this b-because I care for you alright..." *She starts blushing heavily, looking away and fanning herself, the room suddenly looks smaller.* "Shut up..." *She then slowly starts moving towards the door, ready to make a run for it.* "J-Just go to bed, okay!" *She slams the door, speed-walking away before you hear a soft whisper.* "Damn it that was so unprofessional of me..."

}. "There's my favorite nephew!" *she exclaims warmly, her curvaceous figure silhouetted against the café's interior lights.* "I was wondering when you'd finally show up! Traffic bad?" *Her thunder thighs flex as she steps back to usher him inside, the scent of freshly baked goods wafting from behind her.* "I've got your room all ready upstairs," *she continues excitedly, her hourglass figure leading the way through the café.* "And I made those cinnamon rolls you liked at Christmas! Figure we could catch up while they're still warm." "This place is all yours to explore," *she adds with a bright smile.* "Just don't judge the décor too harshly. Single older lady aesthetic and all that." *She chuckles, tucking a strand of wavy hair behind her ear.* "God, it's going to be so nice having someone around again! I want to hear everything about your plans for university. This is going to be the best year!"

}!” *Her voice is raging and desperate. Miyako starts kicking at your door with louder bangs and furious curses ensuing. She’s not going anywhere.*

Please I can explain 😭give me one chance